


Put up the brightest string of lights I've ever seen

by alessandralee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2833922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward and Jemma get distracted while hanging decorations for the team Christmas party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put up the brightest string of lights I've ever seen

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Christmas fluff.

“You know, you’re making quite a fuss for a man who wears suits on a regular basis,” Jemma comments as she pulls a long garland out of one of the many boxes that litter the floor.

“At least there’s a point to that,” Ward grumbles as he pulls glass ornaments from another box.

“Celebrating the holidays with your friends and coworkers isn’t enough of a point for you?” Jemma pushes a tall stepstool towards the corner of the room and climbs up it.

She’d certainly be more comfortable in her regular clothes than in the heels and dress she picked out for the party. But that’s the point of these parties, to dress up and have fun with people you like in a situation completely outside of the usual.

But it’s impossible to explain that to Ward.

“I celebrated Christmas with friends and co-workers last year, and it didn’t involve a suit,” he comments. “Why don’t you let me take care of that?” he notices Jemma completely failing to reach the spot where the wall meets the ceiling. “You take care of the breakables and I’ll hang the stuff up high.”

Dutifully, Jemma steps off the stepstool and hands over the garland and the hooks.

“Last year’s Christmas party involved six people on a plane rushing to Istanbul,” she reminds him. They have a much larger group on the base this year. “And I seem to recall you hating the ugly Christmas sweater theme.”

Jemma kneels in front of the ornament box.

“Because it was juvenile,” Ward’s back is facing away from Jemma, but she knows he’s rolling his eyes.

“It was festive,” she insists.

“I had a perfectly festive green sweater, but Fitz insisted I wear one that lit up.”

“Olive isn’t a Christmas appropriate shade of green,” Jemma remembers his original sweater choice. She has no sympathy for him.

“Olive is green. Christmas colors are green and red. Ergo, olive is Christmas appropriate.”

Jemma is not having this argument. It’s pointless; it’s been a year since the ugly sweater party. She’s not even sure he owns that sweater anymore.

And besides, she’s far more concerned about the dangerous way Ward is leaning off the stepstool.

“Maybe we should let Mack take care of those garlands,” she suggests.

“I’m fine,” Ward insists, stretching upwards on his tiptoes. On the top run of the stepstool (though it’s really more of a small ladder) the ceiling is still a couple of inches out of his reach.

Of course, the second those words leave his mouth, the ladder tips to the side, almost throwing him to the ground. He manages to shift it back into position, but not without a loud bang as it pushes back against the floor.

Jemma folds her arms across her chest.

“Get down from there this instant,” she orders. “My plans for today are for tinsel and mistletoe, not sutures and butterfly bandages.

Her tone brokers no arguments, so he steps off the ladder and abandons the garland. If Mack can’t reach high enough, then Fitz probably has some robot that can fly up and get the job done.

“Did you say mistletoe?” he directs the conversation away from his near accident. He definitely hadn’t noticed that box.

“Billy said that Sam would be bringing it by before the party starts,” she says.

“I can definitely help with that.”

“Okay, I’ll let Sam know you want to help him hang mistletoe,” Jemma teases as she continues to take the ornaments out of the newspaper wrapping and lays them out on the floor next to her.

“You know what I mean.”

Jemma feigns innocence, “Oh, did you mean you want to kiss me under the mistletoe? I’m sorry, I was confused.” 

She still hasn’t had any success with lying well, so it’s good thing she wants him to know she doesn’t mean it.

“I mean, I’m sure there will be some cute lab techs at the party,” Ward teases back as he joins Jemma at the ornament box.

Jemma snorts, “The lab techs are terrified of you. Good luck with that.”

Generally speaking, Ward only spends time in the lab when he needs Jemma to patch him up. Otherwise, that’s her and Fitz’s space and he does his best to stay out of it.

A bleeding, broken Grant Ward usually isn’t in the best of moods. And even at his most pleasant, Ward can be intimidating.

So the lab techs have learned to keep out of the way whenever he’s around. It saves them a lot of unnecessary stress.

Grant doesn’t comment on the tech’s fear of his. Jemma takes that as a sign that he knows exactly how much of a grouch he can be.

At least he’s a self-aware grouch. That’s something.

“Besides,” Jemma begins again, “you aren’t exactly big on the public displays of affection.”

She practically has to pull teeth to get him to hold her hand in public (unless, of course, they’re undercover, but that case she’s usually to nervous to appreciate it).

“Because we’re at work,” Grant argues.

That’s a lie. They do go on the occasional date, and he’s shy even then.

“We’re always at work.”

Without warning, Ward leans across the box of ornaments and pulls Jemma’s face up towards him. He kisses her passionately, only pausing to gently push the box out of the way so he can get closer (and so they don’t crush any of the ornaments that Coulson probably paid a lot of money for). Even on their knees, he dwarfs her enough that they end up practically lying down just so they can kiss comfortable.

They’re snapped out of their make out session by a loud knock on the wall.

Fitz and Mack and standing a few feet away, looking on with great amusement.

“We thought you might need help,” Mack says.

“But maybe you just need a room,” Fitz suggests with an exaggerated look of disgust.

Grant blushes bright red as Fitz, Mack, and even Jemma burst into laughter.


End file.
